


You are not too Sick to Love

by dandelionweekes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, TW mental illness, and noya is sad, hurt comfort sorta, sad nishinoya, slight angst maybe but also not?, sorry yall i gotta vent thru da comfort characters, thats it, theyre on a beach, tw self harm, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26616403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionweekes/pseuds/dandelionweekes
Summary: “What’re you thinking about?” Asahi asked, his voice almost getting drowned out by the rhythmic beat of the waves on the shore. He squeezed Noya’s hand.Noya looked up at him, that almost smile returning, hanging on his lips in an unnerving manner. “I kind of want to die,” he responded, then returned his gaze to his feet. They had sunken far into the sand and were no longer visible. He wiggled his toes under the pressure of it all, feeling a little cold, but Asahi’s hand was warm in his own and it dissolved the shiver that threatened to shake his small body.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	You are not too Sick to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hewo. Normally, I dont write anything this short but I just needed to vent bc ,.,.., yall,.,.,. Its been rough. Anyway, enjoy sad nishinoya. This is quickly becoming a staple in my work. Or at least the fact that I keep hurting the haikyuu boyz. AT LEAST I RESOLVE IT THO. Some of yall dont and that's just CRUEL (I'm looking at the author of in another life >:( )

The waves lapped at Nishinoya’s bare feet, washing over them gently. He watched as the cold salt water pulled away just as quickly as it had pushed itself forward, and he smiled, the expression wobbly and uneasy. 

Next to him, he heard Asahi kick his foot forward and splash around a little. The full moon and its golden light glittered off of the ocean water as waves manifested and then disappeared, falling back into the vastness of the ocean easily. Both of the two were sinking into the soft sand but they paid no mind to this fact. 

Asahi grabbed Noya’s hand easily, sliding their palms together, intertwining their fingers. Bathed in the soft light of the moon, Noya looked beautiful and thoughtful, but something else, too. Sad. He looked sad. 

His eyes were large and shining with emotion as he watched a seashell roll over his foot and then get lost in the water. His lips curved into an almost smile, then fell, then repeated the motion. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Asahi asked, his voice almost getting drowned out by the rhythmic beat of the waves on the shore. He squeezed Noya’s hand. 

Noya looked up at him, that almost smile returning, hanging on his lips in an unnerving manner. “I kind of want to die,” he responded, then returned his gaze to his feet. They had sunken far into the sand and were no longer visible. He wiggled his toes under the pressure of it all, feeling a little cold, but Asahi’s hand was warm in his own and it dissolved the shiver that threatened to shake his small body. 

Asahi’s expression dampened slightly, but he tried not to let it show. Once more, he squeezed Noya’s hand with his own, feeling as though if he didn’t, Noya might slip away from him. The clouds above the two rushed past with a warm breeze, and as Asahi inhaled, he tasted salt. 

“Is that bad?” Noya questioned, looking a little absent. He had asked this question about a thousand times before, and Asahi’s response never wavered. It was always the same. 

Deeply, Asahi sighed, feeling a little pained. More than anything, he wanted his boyfriend to be okay. He wanted him to be able to enjoy life without constantly pining for an end, though Noya tended to romanticize said end, never referring to it as something dark or gruesome. He simply called it “peace,” and every time he did, Asahi winced. He knew this meant that, no matter how wide Noya grinned, or how hard laughter shook his body, he wasn’t at peace with being alive. Peace, to him, was death. Asahi feared that this thought process would never change. 

“It’s not bad to talk about it, no. And it’s not bad to feel that way,” Asahi replied. When the two had first gotten together, when Noya had  _ really  _ opened up to him and had shown him, fearfully, just how spent he was, Asahi had been scared. His first instinct had been to tell Noya that he needed to quell these feelings, or maybe even throw them out. Quickly, though, he realized that this wasn’t the correct solution. Noya needed to be able to process his emotions without feeling guilty that he was experiencing them. Asahi always told him so, and he was doing the same now. 

A wave pulled back, causing the water around it to ripple in a disorienting manner. Noya stumbled slightly, pulling a foot from deep in the sand as he fell against Asahi’s side. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way,” Noya said softly. “I know I shouldn’t do the things I do.” He glanced down at his thighs which were pale in the moonlight. Scars stretched across them, some short and blunt, and some of them deep and spanning the length of his thigh. They were ugly marks, Noya knew this logically, but he had never found it within himself to keep that in mind when he had a blade in his hand. 

The only time he had ever cared was when he had dropped his gym shorts down, eyes staring down in shame as Asahi scanned the whole of him, scars, cuts, pain and all. Of course, Asahi had simply rushed forward to press hundreds of kisses to him, but despite that reaction, the shame had rooted itself deep within Noya, blooming and thriving. He felt it now. 

“And I know I’m probably too sick to love---”    


“You’re  _ not  _ too sick to love,” Asahi cut him off, eyebrows furrowed, voice firm. He pulled Nishinoya a little closer.    
  
“Okay,” Noya said lightly, not taking Asahi’s words to heart. He looked up at the moon, smiling a little, and this time, the expression wasn’t so sad. After a moment, he flicked his gaze over to Asahi. “I love you, you know. Like, a lot. I’m sorry you have to put up with me.”    
  
“Noya,” fondness, pure and unadulterated, seeped into Asahi’s tone. He tugged Noya into a hug, squeezing him tight as saltwater splashed around them. He pressed his face into the soft hair on Noya’s head, inhaling the clean scent of shampoo. “I don’t have to  _ put up with you _ . I want to be with you---I want to support you. You  _ are not  _ too sick to love.” Asahi repeated, feeling Nishinoya relax against his body. 

“I’m not too sick to love.” Noya said, testing out how words felt on his tongue. Then, “I’m not too sick to love,” the words came out more confidently this time. 

A small smile stretched across Asahi’s lips. He kissed the top of Noya’s head, his heart full. “You’re not,” he said. 

“I’m not.” 


End file.
